Mine
by skyefairie
Summary: Four years after the Battle, a successfully published Hermione runs into a broke Draco Malfoy working in a cafe in Diagon Alley, trying to make a turnaround with his life. Intrigued by this new man he has become, Hermione begins to get to know Draco for the person he really is.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N. I was recently inspired to write this fic when I watched Taylor Swift music video for ****_Mine_**** and found that her love interest in the video really reminded me of Tom Felton for some reason (perhaps it's the blond Britishness!) I've got big plans for this fic; it's bound to be a long taxing journey of at least 50 chapters – but a great learning curve! Enjoy!**

Chapter 1

Five-thirty on a warm July evening, found Hermione Granger making her way down the bustling, busy streets of Diagon Alley. Her pale blue work robes billowed behind her as she threaded her way briskly through the late-shoppers. Her heels clicked softly on the cobbled street and a heavy bag was slung over her shoulder. The young woman had just left work at the Ministry and was headed to her favourite cafe for a well-earned coffee.

Pushing open the glass door and stepping into the warm, fragrant cafe, Hermione heaved a sigh of relief and visibly relaxed. The combined smells of roasting coffee, baking bread and hot butterbeer all mingled into one delightful aroma. Hermione wound her way deftly through the cafe, stopping at last at a little table that looked out onto the darkening streets of Diagon Alley.

It had been four years since the Battle of Hogwarts. Four years since Harry had defeated Voldemort and restored the wizarding world to peace. So much had happened in those four years and they had passed in such a blur, that Hermione could barely believe that here she was, at the respectable age of twenty two with a book of her own account of the War published and gracing the shelves of Flourish and Blotts. Harry was one of the head aurors of the Ministry and happily engaged to Ginny. Ron and George's business at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was booming. Ron and herself had broken up a year subsequent to the Battle. Their relationship, as happy as they had been during the initial months of it, began to test their true friendship and threatened the break the trio. They had therefore decided to call it off before anything happened that they might regret.

Hermione, single and free, was currently working in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures where she had introduced S.P.E.W. and was currently expanding it. One year previously, Hermione had completed and published her book _Horcruxes to Hogwarts: A Journey;_ an account of her year on the run with Harry and Ron. It was now, to her delight, a worldwide bestseller and had been met with great critical acclaim. She was now considered widely as, not only the Brightest Witch of her Age, but also as one of the best "historical" writers of the century.

Ginny was now playing Quidditch for the Holyhead Harpies while sporting a glittering engagement ring. Her and Harry's wedding was planned for the following May. Hermione couldn't have been happier for the two of them.

Bill and Fleur were expecting their first child any day now. Mrs Weasley was frantically preparing everything for when the baby arrived.

George was, as of two weeks previously, happily engaged to Alicia Spinnit. Ron had gotten back together with Lavender a year ago and the two had recently moved in together, in a flat in central London.

Luna was currently dating one Rolf Scamander. Neville was studying to become a Herbology Professor and living with Susan Bones.

Everyone seemed to be happily loved up – everyone, it seemed, but for Hermione. She wasn't exactly the miserable single girl, but she wasn't particularly happy either. Although her career was turning out wonderfully and her friends were as happy as they had ever been. Although she had a comfortable life, living at the Burrow with Harry, Ginny and Mr and Mrs Weasley, she secretly wished there was that someone special to come home to every evening after work. Someone other than Harry and Ginny who, although she loved them dearly, often made her feel like a third wheel. Someone who would ply her with chocolates on Valentine's Day; someone who would be there for all her tears and laughs, good times and bad times. What she really wanted was someone to share her life with. Someone to share herself with.

But Hermione, being the consistent and productive woman she was, would never let those thoughts overwhelm her more than once a month. And when they did there was almost always some heap of work to distract her.

And so life had been for the last three years, quiet and hardworking. Concentrated and unwavering. But now that she had reached her goal – published her book and expanded S.P.E.W. – what was out there still to do?

Hermione was brought back to earth with a start as someone called her name. It was the cafe manager, who, by now, knew her very well – she was his most frequent customer after all. This little cafe was her late afternoon haunt. She would come here almost every day after work for a cappuccino and slice of cake. Occasionally, when Harry and Ginny were out and there was no one at home but Mr and Mrs Weasley and the ghoul in the attic and she was feeling a little lonely, she would stay for dinner.

'I'll send someone over in a mo',' the manager called cheerfully, and Hermione replied with a grin and a wave.

_Oh dear,_ Hermione thought. _I've forgotten his name again_. She was sure she had his business card somewhere in her purse. Bending over under the table, she began to rummage through her bag in search of said purse.

Most would have thought that the bushy-haired, bookish Hermione from her past school years was gone. Indeed it seemed so judging from all appearances. She had matured into a beautiful young woman. Her hair had now relaxed into gentle ringlets now that her teenage hormones had dissipated. Her body was slim, with the perfect proportion of hips to breasts, and her once bossy demeanour had lessened somewhat.

One thing, however, remained unchanged – and that was her love of books. You would have thought that, given the amount of strain her shoulders and back took during her teenage years from carting a dozen books around Hogwarts each day may have lessened her desire to do more damage to them – but no. Every day, to and from the Ministry, she crammed as many books into her well-worn bag as it could handle and set off for work. It did not seem to occur to her that she could have just set up a bookshelf for herself in the office. Perhaps she was too attached to her books to be parted with them for longer than a weekend.

It was understandable then, why she was still rummaging through her packed bag when footsteps approached her table and the unmistakable voice of Draco Malfoy said, 'Would you like anything to drink?'

Hermione, forgetting she was still half under the table, shot upright and whacked her head on the underside of the little wooden table. Her eyes watering in pain, Hermione re-emerged from beneath to table to look up into the very shocked face of her former nemesis, whose astonished expression only doubled as he recognised her.

'Granger?' he gasped, gaping at her.

'Malfoy.' Hermione returned the greeting, massaging her throbbing head.

'What are you doing here?'

Hermione frowned up at him through watering eyes, taking in his sleek appearance, coupled with his black and white uniform. 'I might ask you the same thing,' she remarked, meeting his wide grey eyes.

Malfoy looked a little uncomfortable. 'I work here,' he said, avoiding her eyes.

Hermione's jaw dropped. 'You're joking!' Because there was no possible way in the correct working of this world that Draco Malfoy would stoop as low as waiting on tables in a little cafe in Diagon Alley.

A slight sigh escaped him. 'No, Granger, as I am sure you can see by my attire I am _not_ joking. Now, would you like anything to drink?'

Hermione sat back in her chair, staring up at him. After a couple of moments she had made up her mind. 'A cappuccino – and get yourself one, too. I want to talk to you.'

Malfoy looked startled. 'Actually Granger, my shift isn't over yet –'

'Oh honestly, Malfoy, I'm buying you a coffee, since when do you turn that down?' Hermione snapped. Without another word, Malfoy walked away, leaving a very confused Hermione in his wake.

What on earth was Draco Malfoy doing here; waiting tables in a quiet London cafe? Considering the fact that his family was loaded with wealth, she seriously doubted it was for want of money.

To add to the shock, she had seen neither hide nor hair of him for four years, since he had left Hogwarts after the battle. No one, at least to her knowledge, had had any sort of communication with the Malfoy's in a long time. As far as she knew, they had turned in towards themselves and currently remained on a low profile, hiding in the Manor. Yet here Draco was, healthy and well, in the middle of London.

Looking up at the sound of approaching footfalls, she saw Malfoy returning with two steaming cups wobbling dangerously on a tray. He placed them carefully on the table and then, after a moment of hesitation, sat down opposite her.

Hermione spooned sugar into her coffee and then sat back in her chair, stirring it pensively and looking curiously at Malfoy.

'So what's going on?' she asked, taking a sip of the hot drink and surveying him suspiciously over the rim of her cup.

Malfoy, who was spooning copious amounts of sugar into his espresso, frowned. 'What do you mean?'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'I mean, what are you doing here, Malfoy? Working in a _cafe?_ Come on now, don't pretend like it's not true, we all know you're family is loaded with money. Why are you working here? What's happened?'

For some reason a pale blush rose the Malfoy's cheeks. He fiddled with the handle of his cup for a few moments before saying, in a soft voice, 'They turned me out – my parents.'

Hermione choked on her coffee. Of all the things she had suspected the Slytherin to say, this most certainly was not one of them. Malfoy watched her with a strange mixture of irritation and amusement as she struggled to get her breath back.

'What?' she gasped, when she had finally recovered. 'Why?'

Malfoy shrugged and took another sip of his coffee before answering. 'I didn't agree with their principles. They were unjust and cruel and when I voiced that to them – well, let's just say they didn't appreciate it.' His mouth twisted into a humourless smile and he swirled the dregs in his cup.

'And they just _turned you out?_' Hermione said disbelievingly. Despite their flaws, Hermione had always believed that, judging from Narcissa's antics in the Forbidden Forest, when she had lied to Voldemort about Harry being alive, that the Malfoy's had redeemed their sins and returned to a life in the vague attempt at normalcy. It had never occurred to her that the family would have even considered turning Draco out.

Draco ran a hand through his white-blond hair, ruffling it up rather attractively, and sighed. 'Well, my mother didn't agree – but you should know how my father is, no one refuses to comply with him. I don't regret it though,' he added, in answer to Hermione's light frown. 'It's a relief, to be honest, getting out of there. I want a normal life. Not one that is oppressed by my past. So here I am,' he finished, looking around the cosy room. 'Broke... and waiting tables in Diagon Alley to pay for my tuition.' He stood up and began clearing their cups away.

'Tuition?' Hermione was staring at him again.

Draco looked down into her wide, curious eyes. 'Yeah, I'm studying Potions at the Centre for Advanced Magical Erudition.'

Hermione suddenly felt a rush of admiration for the pale, blond, young man standing before her. He appeared to be attempting to redeem his ways and he was studying for one of the highest magical qualifications a wizard could attain.

Perhaps some of this showed in her eyes, because Draco looked her strangely before turning and bearing his tray back to the kitchens.

Before he could leave, however, Hermione stood, placing a galleon on the table for the coffee and said, 'Malfoy – it's good to see you.'

Malfoy stared back at her for a few seconds before nodding stiffly and walking away. Hermione watched him go for moment, marvelling at his change, before stooping, grabbing her bag from beneath the table and heading for the doors.

**A/N. I hope you all enjoyed that! Please, please do review – it's wonderfully inspiring! – Skye x**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N. Wow, I didn't expect that kind of a response to the first chapter! Thank you all so much for all the lovely reviews, favs and follows! I so appreciate it! Hugest hugs to Patty89 Fullofpassion09, rae8807, Kermit 304, BlueBerrySourStraps, Scarlet-rose15, Lumos-Hermione-Nox, Nameless Secret Keeper and Hadam!**

**So here's you reward: the next chapter! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: All characters and references to the War and time at Hogwarts all belong to the amazing Jo Rowling.**

Chapter 2

'Harry!'

Hermione burst into his office, her hair flying behind her. Harry jumped violently and looked up, startled, from the stack of papers he was in the process of signing.

'Hermione? What's wrong?' he asked.

'You will never guess who I met in the cafe in Diagon Alley yesterday!'

'_Who you met in the cafe? _Hermione, you almost gave me heart attack bursting in here like that – look at what you made me do!' He brandished his current form under her nose, which was now speckled in little spots of navy ink.

Hermione waved her wand over the parchment impatiently, vanishing the ink. 'Come on, guess!'

Harry rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. 'Just tell me, Hermione.'

'Draco Malfoy!' Hermione said triumphantly. Harry's freshly loaded quill slipped from his fingers and onto the form Hermione had just cleaned. Oblivious to the renewed damage he had caused he started up at Hermione's excited face above him.

'_Malfoy?_ As in our former arch-enemy, Malfoy?'

'The very same.'

'What was he doing in a cafe?'

'Waiting tables,' said Hermione promptly, she had clearly been bursting to say this from the beginning, judging by the way the words tumbled from her mouth.

Harry squinted suspiciously up at his friend. 'Hermione, are you pulling my leg?'

Hermione looked shocked. 'Of course not – why on earth would I do that? Listen...' She drew a chair over to Harry's desk and flopped into it. 'He's working there because his family turned him out. He's broke and studying Potions at the Centre for Advanced Magical Erudition. If you ask me, it looks as if he wants to make a turnaround!' she stopped breathlessly, gazing at Harry.

A slight frown creased Harry's forehead. He looked down at his ink splattered parchment but not as if he was seeing it at all. Hermione got the feeling that this news did not come lightly for her friend.

Not wanting to break the tense silence, Hermione sat back and fiddled with the cuff of her robes; but after a moment or two she looked up.

'Harry?' she said softly.

He looked at her as if he had forgotten that she was in the room. His eyes were slightly unfocused and there was strange glint within them that made her feel a little nervous. When he spoke, his voice was quiet.

'So you believe he's changed, do you Hermione?' he asked, tapping his parchment with his wand for the second time to vanish the ink spots.

Hermione nodded. 'I'm almost certain,' she assured him.

'Right,' said Harry, rising to his feet, an expression of determination on his face. 'What cafe was it again?'

Hermione stood up too, looking nervous, but gave him the directions. 'What are you going to do?'

Harry's face was impassive as he pulled on his coat. 'Just have a little chat with him, that's all. He can't deny me that – he owes me.'

Hermione nodded, remembering only too well how Harry had saved Malfoy from the Fiendfyre in the Room of Requirement. She knew Malfoy could not ignore Harry – not when he was in his debt.

Harry was about to leave when the door opened again to admit a very excited looking Ron. He stopped short at the sight of their faces, the smile melting from his face.

'What's going on?' he asked, looking from Hermione to Harry.

'Malfoy's back,' Harry said shortly.

'Was he ever gone?' asked Ron, ever the dense one.

'The Malfoy's have been keeping a low profile for years. No one I know had seen them for well over two years. I need to talk to him.' And without another word, Harry swept from the room.

Hermione's day at the office was not a pleasant one. She did not see Harry for the rest of the day, and by the time was packing up for the day she was seriously worried that Harry might have said something rash to Malfoy.

Not that she was being protective of Malfoy, but she did not particularly want to be one to have kindled the spark that had renewed old rivalries. On the contrary, she wanted more than anything to move on from the past. If Draco Malfoy had decided that he wanted to move on as well then she was more than happy for him to do so. She dearly hoped that Harry had not picked any sort of fight with his former rival.

There was another reason, too, why she wanted to remain of good terms with Malfoy. Another reason she felt rather strange, and indeed rather guilty, about. She wanted to get to know this new Malfoy. He seemed so different than when she had last seen him. He had matured. He was growing into what was, undoubtedly, who he was supposed to be – and she was relieved to see that it was not something orientated within the dark arts.

Scooping the last of her books off her desk and stowing them neatly away in her bag, Hermione prepared to leave. As it was Friday, the Ministry members retired home at three. The corridors of the Ministry were bustling with people, eager to get home and spend a relaxing evening before the following day's work summoned them back to their offices.

Hermione joined on the queues for the fireplaces, just behind a very tall, heavily built wizard she recognised as one of the aurors from Harry's department. The line moved swiftly, and in next to no time Hermione was shouting the words, 'The Leaky Cauldron!' into the emerald-green flames and was whipped out of sight.

A few seconds later she landed with a jolt in the bustling common room of the bar. She staggered slightly and regained her balance just in time to step neatly out of the way as a short, middle-aged witch appeared in the hearth.

'Sorry dear,' the witch mumbled, and she scurried off to the bar where she was greeted by Tom's toothless grin and a glass of firewhiskey. Hermione gave Tom a cheery wave as she headed for the back door. In a few moments she had stepped out into the busy streets of Diagon Alley.

Following her usual route, Hermione wound her way through the streets until she reached her cafe. Hoping against hope that he was indeed there, having not taken note of his shift times, Hermione entered the sunny teashop and glanced around.

She felt a slight surge of disappointment as no sleek, blond young man appeared in her immediate line of view. Trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach, Hermione made her way over to her usual table and sat down, waiting for a waiter to appear.

Her stomach growled as she scanned the menu, reprimanding her for not feeding it that day, and since she had time to spare and nothing to do, she decided to get a meal.

She ordered her usual cappuccino, along with a large portion of lasagne and salad and settled down to enjoy her meal.

She had barely taken her first mouthful when she heard approaching footsteps and a familiar deep, masculine voice said, 'So... back again are we?'

Malfoy sat down opposite Hermione and surveyed her with his steel grey eyes. An instinctive smile lit Hermione's lips at the sight of him. A smile she quickly hid behind her coffee cup, for it would not do for Malfoy to know how pleased she was to see him.

She shrugged good-naturedly. 'Well, I am their best customer,' she said, letting her smile return to her lips.

Malfoy, on the other hand did not smile, he looked at her, and there was such a strange gleam in his eyes that her heart faltered for a moment. What had Harry said to him? She opened her mouth to ask, but Malfoy beat her to it.

'My shift ends in ten minutes, will you take a walk with me when you're done?'

Hermione did not hesitate for a second. 'Of course.'

Malfoy nodded. 'I'll be outside then.' And he turned and headed back to kitchen, leaving Hermione's heart racing like a teenager's.

_Calm down, Hermione,_ she chided herself, as she began to bolt down her meal. _This is Draco Malfoy we're talking about here._ Nevertheless, she had polished of her pasta in five minutes flat. She slapped a couple of coins down on the scrubbed wooden table and headed for the doors, waving briefly at the manager as she left the cafe.

Outside, the sun was still fairly high in the sky and the air was pleasantly warm. Draco was leaning against wall of the cafe with a jacket slung over one arm and a bag over his shoulder. He was gazing at the ground beneath his feet with a vacant expression, tracing the cobbles with the toe of his left shoe.

Hermione approached him cautiously. There was something certainly very different about him since their school years. Gone was the cold, sneering exterior that he used to boast of. It had been replaced with a calm, mellow and much more mature demeanour.

He looked up as she drew near to him and a faint smile lifted the corners of his mouth. 'You ready?'

'Yes, where are going'

'There's a little park not too far from here, in muggle London... I thought that might be nice.'

Hermione nodded and fell into step beside him as they strode back up Diagon Alley, to the Leaky Cauldron. Malfoy was walking fairly briskly and Hermione detected an air of nervousness around the Slytherin. He didn't utter a word as they had stepped onto the pavement outside the Leaky Cauldron and turned right. Perhaps he was shy. Or perhaps he wanted to wait until they were in a quieter area before he broached the subject that he was so keen to discuss with her.

Hermione had been left no doubt, now, that it was about Harry, and she was slightly nervous, herself, about the inevitable conversation they were about to have. For one, the idea of having a decent conversation with Draco Malfoy was uncharted territory for her. She had spent the larger portion of her childhood enduring sneering taunts and verbal bullying from the man who now walked silently beside her. The man who, many an occasion – in fact, whenever he could find the opportunity – opted to replace her already abused surname with _mudblood_.

Secondly, she had not seen him for almost four years, the time in which he seemed to have transformed from an arrogant, proud teenager, to a mature and self-aware adult. A transformation which had intrigued Hermione from the moment she had seen him the previous evening.

Despite their frosty past, Hermione wanted to get to know this new Draco Malfoy; which was why she had so readily agreed to this walk with him.

They turned left and crossed the busy street. The honking of car horns and the hum of engines was surprisingly loud on Hermione's ears, which had grown used to the quiet of the wizarding word – bereft as it was of the thousands of electrical gadgets that muggles used to go about their daily tasks.

Shortly after, they arrived at the park that Malfoy had been heading for. It was large and quiet; densely wooded in areas, interspersed with large, sweeping lawns scattered with late afternoon picnickers.

Deciding that now would probably be a good time to break the silence that they had withheld for the last ten minutes, Hermione turned to Malfoy.

'Is this something to do with Harry?' she asked.

Malfoy didn't answer immediately, he slowed his pace slightly and chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. After a while he said, 'Partly. But I also hoped that you and I could... clear some things up,' he finished evasively.

Hermione eyed him curiously. What 'things' was he intending to clear up? Rather than begin conversation by broaching that topic, she decided to steer her next sentence in the direction of what had been bothering her for the majority of the day.

'What did Harry come and talk to you about?'

Malfoy looked at her in undisguised surprise. 'I thought you, of all people, would have known that.'

Hermione shook her head. 'I haven't seen him since this morning,' she said.

'Ah...' Malfoy remained silent for a couple of minutes. He appeared to be struggling with himself and Hermione hoped she hadn't touched a nerve with her question. After a while she heard him draw a breath as if steeling himself for something. She looked up at his angular face expectantly.

'He... he umm...' Malfoy was looking as if this was costing him every ounce of his resolve. 'He proposed a truce,' he finished in a rush.

A beaming smile lit Hermione's face at this revelation. So Harry had not, after all, gone to pick a childish argument with his former enemy, he had gone to offer a truce. She felt a rush of affection for her friend and his maturity.

'That's wonderful!' she said, and she meant every word.

Malfoy turned his white-blond head to look at her. 'You really think so?'

'I really do. I think that it's about time that we lay aside our old differences and accept the fact that we've all moved on from where we were when we were children.'

Malfoy looked relieved. They had reached the edge of one of the densely wooded patches and they turned left to navigate their way around its perimeter. 'Good,' he said, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. 'Because... because I wanted to offer you the same thing.'

His words tumbled out in such a rush that Hermione had to turn them over in her mind again before she was able to grasp the full gist of what he had just said. She stopped. A few paces ahead Malfoy, realising her absence, turned and walked back to join her.

Hermione was staring at him, her chocolate-brown eyes wide. 'Really?'

Malfoy nodded and swallowed. 'Really. And...' He looked straight into Hermione's eyes and she saw utmost sincerity in his gaze. 'And I... I wanted to apologize. For everything I did when were younger. For –'

Hermione had a feeling a where this conversation was going and suddenly she didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to relive those moments when he had done her wrong. She didn't want to be reminded of all the times he had looked at her as though she was filth. And after all, wasn't the fact that the once proud and arrogant Draco Malfoy apologizing reason enough for her forgiveness. She had always been easy to forgive. She had never held grudges and she always felt respect for those who were brave enough to come forward and admit their wrongs.

'Don't worry,' she said. 'It's alright.'

But Malfoy was not so easily wavered. 'No it's not!' he said forcefully, and Hermione was slightly alarmed to see his eyes brighten with what she was sure were tears. She tried to look away, but it was impossible to avert her gaze from his. Despite his sudden emotional flash, Malfoy ploughed on.

'You don't know how often I regret everything I ever said to you... how often since the war that I lie in bed, wishing I could have relived my life. Gone back and started afresh!'

'Malfoy, don't –' Hermione tried to push in. She didn't need to hear this. She had forgiven him already... years ago really; but Malfoy ignored her.

'Do you know what I see every night in my dreams?' he cried. There was no doubt about it now; the brightness of his eyes was because of the tears welling up in them. 'I see every person I ever saw tortured in my house that last year. The Muggle Studies Professor and people I didn't even know the names of. I see you! I see you writhing on the floor and Bellatrix standing over you – and I did nothing! I did _nothing_ to help you!' Tears began to spill over his eyelids, running down his face and Hermione felt her own eyes sting.

'I hear you screaming, and begging her to stop while I stand by! It's been four years and it still haunts me. Do you know why I really hid away for all those years? Because I was scared to face you... to face all of you... I was afraid that, after all I had done I would be an outcast. Even though I had started to move away from the Dark side before you and Potter and Weasley had been captured! I used to sneak down to the Lovegood girl and Mr Ollivander with food when they were imprisoned in our basement. But when she tortured you... that's when I really woke up. That's when I realised I had been wrong the entire time about whose side was the right one. And I'm sorry, Hermione, I'm so sorry...'

At the sudden use of her first name, Hermione's resolve crumpled and she found tears cascading down her own cheeks. She reached out a hand and took his, grasping it tightly.

'It's alright Draco... it really is.' She wanted to say more... so much more. But now was not the time. She would wait for a time when they were both dry-eyed and composed.

They stood like that for a few minutes, hand in hand, taking deep, steadying breaths. And strange and touching sight – but thank Merlin there was no one there to witness the exchange. Eventually, Draco gently disengaged his hand and turned to look and Hermione again. She was surprised at how quickly he had recovered and returned to his usual cool, calm and composed self. She knew for a fact that she must look a wreck – crying was not particularly becoming of her. Her face had a rather alarming tendency to emulate a tomato when subjected to tears.

Deciding that now was not a moment to dwell on it, she gave him a small smile.

'Friends then?' she asked, unconciously tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

A smile, a true smile, such as Hermione had never seen grace the Slytherin's mouth, spread across Draco's face.

'Friends,' he concurred, and it with that, they resumed their stroll.

**A/N. There you go. I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are welcome - Skye xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the amazing reviews and follows a favs yet again! I really, really appreciate it all! **

**Here's the next chapter! **

Chapter 3

"So... what's going on?" Ginny collapsed onto the couch beside Hermione in the Burrow's living room. Hermione, whose nose had been buried within the depths of _House Elves: the Ties and Tribulations,_ looked up with a start and gazed blankly at her friend as she tried to process what Ginny had just said.

It was late Saturday afternoon. Relishing the break from work, Hermione had spent the day reading up on house elves for her upcoming lecture on S.P.E.W.

Ginny and Harry had been out for the morning as Harry had treated his fiancé with a trip to Oxford. Harry had now gone to meet Ron for dinner in his flat, while Ginny had preferred to have a quiet evening in the company of her friend.

"What?" Hermione asked, having finally come to conclusion that she simply could not remember what Ginny had said.

Ginny sighed, smiling slightly. "I said, what's going on?" she repeated patiently. "You've been acting strange since last night." She paused and eyed Hermione beadily. "Is this something to do with Malfoy?"

Hermione jumped slightly at the mention of Malfoy. She had not spoken to anyone about their emotional exchange the day before. Indeed, she had not had a chance to, being as busy and preoccupied as Ginny had been the previous evening. Now, she supposed, was probably the best time to do it.

She sighed. "Maybe a little."

Ginny pounced like a ginger cat on this little piece of news. "What happened?" she demanded. "I know Harry went and talked to him yesterday. Did you too?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, I bumped into him again at the cafe on Diagon Alley... and he invited me for a walk." Ginny looked shocked, but motioned impatiently for Hermione to continue. "Well," Hermione said with difficulty, for some reason a lump seemed to be rising in her throat. "He apologized... about everything. About all those times at school when he teased me, and called me a mudblood. He even..." She stopped for a moment, and took a deep breath. Even now, years later, when the pain was long past, the memory of Bellatrix's brutal torture of her was difficult to talk about. She swallowed. "He said he was sorry that he didn't do anything to help be when I was being tortured my Bellatrix. He said it still haunts him." It was taking all her strength of will not to start crying. Even so, she felt the tell tale sting in the corners of her eyes.

Ginny was examining her friend closely and Hermione could see sympathy in her friend's eyes. It sometimes surprised her how well Ginny knew her. She sometimes had the strange feeling that Ginny knew exactly what was going on in her head, perhaps even better than she, Hermione, did.

They had never spoken much about Hermione's time in Malfoy Manor. Harry had possibly told his fiancé his side of the story, but neither Harry nor Ron had experienced the horror of the Cruciatus Curse being inflicted upon them multiple times.

Not wanting to relive it at the present moment though, with her emotional strings already stretched tight enough to snap at any given moment, Hermione – once again – decided to lay that topic aside for another time.

Ginny frowned and chewed her lip thoughtfully. "He apologized about your time in Malfoy Manor?" she asked quietly.

Hermione just nodded.

"And you're he was being genuine?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Absolutely... there was no way you could suspect that being false," she said, remembering the tears that dripping down Draco's pale face.

Ginny stared thoughtfully out of the window, where the vegetable patch and surrounding hills were thrown into sharp relief by the sun's dying rays. A slightly bedraggled looking gnome ambled through Mrs Weasley's carrots. When she spoke, her voice was even quieter than before.

"So he really has turned over a new leaf then."

Hermione nodded.

"Well," said Ginny, turning back to Hermione, a smile spreading over her freckled face. "That's great, Hermione... really amazing. I would never have expected that of him. Not that I knew him very well," she added hastily. "But still... it looks like the world really is righting itself again."

Hermione smiled weakly, she did not know exactly why this whole conversation had affected her so thoroughly, but she was eager to move onto another topic as quickly as possible. She did not want to explore, however interesting it may sound, _The Life and Lies of Draco Malfoy_, not at least, at the present time, when the mere thought of him sent her mind into an utterly confused whirlwind of thoughts.

Ginny straightened up from her unbecoming slouch and extracted herself from the sofa with a groan and a stretch. "Are you hungry?" she asked, heading towards the kitchen. "Mum and dad have gone out tonight so it's just the two of us, I thought I'd make a quick pasta dish and we can catch up?"

A smile spread across Hermione's face and she, too, sprang to her feet. "I'll come help you," she called. She took a moment to root around in the crevices of the couch to locate her bookmark, which had an annoying tendency of losing itself in the depths of the upholstery on a regular basis, before hurrying to join Ginny in the kitchen.

Two days later found Hermione dozing on her desk over her half finished report of renewed elf rights. Her quill dripped softly onto the blank half of the parchment as her mind wandered and she found herself gazing unseeingly at the fresh vase of jasmine she had picked just that morning.

Sunday had been quiet and uninteresting. She had spent it chatting aimlessly with Harry and Ginny and not a getting any work done at all. It was no surprise, then, that work this morning had hit her with full force, which was why she had sat down immediately to complete her house elf report. However her mind had, most uncharacteristically, wandered when her quill had filled almost two thirds of the long roll of parchment with her neat, carefully spaced handwriting; which was why she found herself staring absentmindedly at the delicate, white jasmine flowers.

Before she could get her unruly thoughts in order, they had meandered slap bang into worrisome topic of Draco Malfoy. She had neither seen nor heard from him since their stroll in the park on Friday. They had parted on fairly friendly terms, given the fact that they, along with Harry, had just called a truce and decided to start over fresh. Glad that that obstacle was safely out of the way, Hermione was really quite keen to see the blond Slytherin again soon. His change intrigued her, as she had never seen such a transformation quite like this before – from a snide and snarky school bully, to a mature, understanding man. She was eager to begin what she hoped would be a friendship with him.

But nothing more, of course. She was, as she reminded herself several times a month, a happy and successful single woman, with no need or inclination to begin a romantic relationship with any man. That, coupled with the fact that her parents had recently filed a divorce after ten years of an unhappy marriage, made her certain that she did not need anyone in her life right now.

To be honest, she had a quiet fear of entering into a relationship which would only bring heartache, misery and a break up. If she had learned anything from her parents, it was never to give you heart wholly to someone else, and she intended to keep her heart entirely hers.

This fear of romantic love had started at a young age, when she had first witnessed one of her parents nastier arguments, and from there on after, she had realised that marriage was not, after all, a happily ever after situation. Love was a ruthless game unless you played it right.

She used to, and still did at times, wonder why people even bothered with love, if it never lasted anyway.

Such were the thoughts circling Hermione's mind when Barbara Hopkirke, another witch from her Department entered Hermione's office and dropped a letter on the curly haired witch's desk.

"This just came for you, Hermione," said Barbara, with a smile. She turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and Jonathan says he wants that report on his desk this afternoon," she added apologetically, before leaving and closing the door behind her.

Hermione sighed as she siphoned off the ink splotches on her unfinished report, and then turned her attention to the letter that had been dropped among her books. It was neatly addressed in emerald green ink.

_Hermione Granger_

_Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_

_Ministry of Magic_

_London_

She slit it open with deft fingers and extracted the sheet of parchment that had been folded inside. She sighed. It was just another reminder from her head of office on the upcoming house elf convention. As if she had not been preparing for it for weeks already.

Sighing, she returned to her report.

The day had passed fairly quickly and before she knew it, Hermione found herself in the queue for the floo fires and then shouting the words "Diagon Alley" into the emerald flames. She was not, however, headed for her favourite coffee shop, but rather to Flourish and Blotts, to pick up an order of books she had placed a while back.

Hermione stepped over the threshold and into the tranquil silence of her favourite book shop. A faint tinkle as though someone was ringing wind chimes, ran through the store to announce her presence. A short, middle aged wizard bustled into view from between the looming bookshelves and positioned himself behind the counter before turning to the curly haired witch.

'May I help you?'

Hermione, who had been rummaging through her bag in an attempt to locate the slip of parchment that held her order, looked up and hurried to the counter, placing a rather battered receipt on the shiny counter top.

"I placed this order about a month ago, I was wondering if it had come in yet?" she asked, rather breathlessly.

The man examined the parchment closely before nodding. "Yes, Miss...?"

"Granger," Hermione quickly supplied.

"Right... yes, it arrived yesterday if I'm not mistaken. If you will just wait here for a moment...' He bustled off, leaving Hermione to examine the packed shelves of the book shop alone. It was quiet, almost eerily so, but it was a silence that Hermione had grown quite accustomed to during her long hours alone in the library at Hogwarts.

She strolled through the towering shelves, running one hand delicately along the soft spines of the books. Reaching the section on house elves – what else – she was forced to climb a precarious ladder to reach a certain tome that was out of her reach. She slipped the book from the shelf and, without waiting to descend the ladder again, opened the book, flipped through the stiff pages and began to read . And, perched precariously as she was at the top of a wooden ladder in a bookshop, she was soon lost within the pages.

She was so engrossed in the account of a certain female elf who had served her family for ninety six years without one day off that she failed to notice the tinkle of the doorbell and the arrival of a tall, pale, blond Slytherin, that is, until he spoke to her.

"Hermione?"

Jolted suddenly, and shockingly, out of her reverie, Hermione shrieked and dropped the book, which landed, splayed and crumpled on the floor below. She, herself, only just managed to grab onto a shelf divide to prevent herself from following in its wake.

Breathing heavily, she had always been easy to scare, she glared down at Draco with an interesting mixture of shock, anger and amusement, as she realised her current predicament.

"Draco!" she gasped, and despite the pounding of her heart, she felt a smile creep over her flushed face. "Merlin, you scared me! What are you doing here?"

Draco peered up at her in amusement. "I might ask you the same thing... reading the top of a ladder is hardly the safest occupation." He crouched down and retrieved the crumpled book. He examined the creased and dusty pages carefully before tapping it with his wand and restoring it to its previously spotless condition.

He reached up and handed it back to Hermione. "You should probably put that safely out of harm's way if you don't want to have to end up buying it," he advised. Hermione nodded quickly, slipped the book back onto the shelf and hurriedly descended the ladder just as the book-keeper returned from the back room, hauling along a large parcel.

Hermione gave Draco a fleeting smile as she brushed past him. "Hang on a moment," she said, and hastened towards the counter to pay. Five minutes later, she had hoisted the bulky parcel into her arms and turned to Draco, who had been waiting patiently behind her, and beckoned to him. She was making her way to the door when she realised Draco's absence. He was standing at the counter, a slim volume in his hands, and was filtering through his money bag.

"What are you doing?" she asked curiously.

Draco quirked an eyebrow and a grin flitted across his face. "Hermione, as much as it may appear that I only entered this shop to frighten you off your ladder, I actually came here for a bit of shopping of my own."

Hermione flushed, feeling stupid. "Right," she muttered, using her knee to lift the heavy parcel more securely into her arms. "Well, I'll be outside then," she muttered, and backed out of the shop. Outside, she dropped the books onto a bench, panting. What had possessed her to order such a vast number of books was completely beyond her at the moment, wiped away by the sheer weight of the parcel.

A few minutes later, Draco exited the shop and made his way over to her, tucking a book into his robes. He sat down beside her and took a moment to examine her state, before he grinned and voiced Hermione's exact thoughts.

"What on earth possessed you to buy all of these books?"

It took Hermione a moment or two to force herself to see the absurdity of her situation, and take her mind off her already aching back. She smile ruefully and said, "Well... I've a got a reputation to uphold."

Draco burst out laughing. Real laughter, true and full of happiness, not his old sneering laugh that used to mock her in the castle corridors for being in situations not dissimilar to this. And all of a sudden Hermione found herself laughing along with him. And they sat like this, two young adults, former enemies, laughing together in the quiet streets of Diagon Alley.

And that was all it took to remove all past disputes, enmity and disagreements from their memories. A burst of genuine laughter.

And just like that, they were friends.

**A/N. I know it wasn't particularly long, but I have big plans for the next chapter and had to finish this one off on this note. Would love to know what you think! Any input is greatly appreciated! Skye xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N. I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to update! We're in the middle of a move and I've been running around packing up house for the last week without a moment to write!**

**Thanks again you amazing people! For all the reviews and follows and favs! Huge hugs to Egyptian Warrior, dominique-han, SasoriHime05, Nameless Secret Keeper, Kermit 304, BlueBerrySourStraps, Fullofpassion09, Fluffy Green Thing and the guests that popped by!**

**Another note: I know that in the last chapter I said this is going to be a rather big, important chapter. Well, due to some rethinking of the plot I've decided not to put that up yet as it wouldn't work. Please don't hate me too much! – Skye xx **

Chapter 4

Draco returned to his little flat in London that evening in high spirits. It was not every day that you reconciled with a former enemy and was left feeling strangely fulfilled. But that was the precise feeling that filled Draco at the moment.

He had left Hermione shortly before, after gently reminding her that she was, in fact, a witch, and advising her to use a simple shrinking charm on her books so as to transport them in better comfort. He had had to hide a smirk as her cheeks flared in embarrassment. Nevertheless, despite their previous differences, he had developed a strange interest in Hermione. They had both changed. He had seen that from the moment she had appeared in his cafe... and not only appearance-wise.

There was a newfound confidence and self-assurance about her person. He had seen that the moment she had ordered him a coffee and insisted he sit with her. She had one of the biggest hearts to be found and the swiftness of her acceptance of him had left him stunned and utterly grateful.

She was the sort of person who could see a person for who they truly were, not who they used to be. And she had let go of their past rivalry in the blink of an eye. It had been her unexpected friendliness and understanding of his predicament that had moved him to apologise to her. He did not want any unresolved issues mussing up a friendship he was hoping to make with her.

However, he certainly had not planned on the emotional exchange they had shared in the park. But something had snapped within him when he had met her warm, understanding gaze and he had found tears rolling down his pale cheeks the armoured barriers encasing his heart cracking. And still she had not left.

How he had not seen this complete and utter goodness of hers before he simply did not know. He supposed he had been blinded by house rivalries and beliefs etched firmly into his mind by his pure-blood family. But here was chance for him to redeem his old ways and create friendships previously impossible, and he was not going to miss it for the world.

The sun was just setting as he climbed the steps to his small apartment. He unlocked the door with a flick of his wand and entered his little abode with a sigh. Life outside was so busy that it was a relief to escape for these few hours and have some time to simply be alone and think.

The flat was small, being the only place he could afford at the current time, but he had done his best to make it as homely as possible. The carpets were threadbare, but spotlessly clean, as Draco had always prided himself on his cleanliness. The kitchen was cramped but sparkling and his little bedroom was cosy and comfortable.

Dropping his bag on the couch, Draco proceeded to the kitchen and fixed himself a sandwich before returning to the living area and falling onto the sofa with a comfortable sigh. Despite the small area of his apartment, the one benefit of it was the exquisite view. He was situated several levels up and Draco's large living room window looked out over the city wonderfully. At night, when everything was lit up, Draco could spend hours simply staring at the lights blankly, processing the complete beauty of the place in which he lived.

A contented smile lit his face has he watched the city lights slowly flicker on as the sky slowly darkened. Swallowing the final bite of his sandwich, Draco turned and rummaged through his bag, resurfacing several moments later with the slim volume he had purchased that afternoon in Diagon Alley.

Silver words stamped across a midnight blue background. _Horcruxes to Hogwarts: A Journey, by H. Granger_. He had noticed the book in the window of Flourish and Blotts a few days before and, not having had the money for it at the time, returned for it that day, whereupon he had found the author herself, reading at the top of a ladder. An amused smile graced his pale features at the memory and he settled back against the soft cushions of the sofa and opened the book.

He was instantly sucked into the book and he found himself marvelling at Hermione's ability to make words bounce off a page and twist themselves into pictures before his very eyes. He also marvelled at the fact that Hermione could have brought herself to write about such a trying and heart wrenching time. There was certainly something to be admired her. Something he had somehow missed before.

He put down the book, dog-earing his page, and sighed, running his hands tiredly through his hair. It had been almost two months since he had been thrown out of the manor... two tiring, trying months. Not that he wasn't pleased to be free of his father's oppressing presence, but he had been feeling lonely and lost of late. It was an unusual feeling, something Draco had not ever truly experienced, as much as he had yearned for it in his youth.

His fallout with his parents had been a bad one, although not entirely unexpected. Draco had been growing impatient with his father's unchanging attitude towards the world since the fall of Voldemort. He had thought that the Dark Lord's demise would have shaken some sense into Lucius – it had certainly done so for Draco – but as time passed and Draco observed his father's rigid resolve to remain fixed in his ways, he could no longer stand it.

The argument had not been pleasant – if anything, it had been the worst Draco had ever endured. His mother had tried to stand up to his father for him. To plead with the man she once loved. But her recent illness had left her weak and she was easily brushed aside by her husband. She was left to watch helplessly as Lucius cursed his own son's name off their family tree and threw him from the house.

Draco had apparated straight to Blaise Zabini's house, who agreed to house him without hesitation. Once Draco's rage had cooled and he had regained the ability to think straight, he had remembered his mother.

He had apparated straight back to the Manor but had been greeted by a wild jet of green light he barely had time to avoid.

From there on after, Draco had made no attempt to return to his mother. To be honest, he was afraid. Afraid of his father. Afraid his mother thought just the same as him. So he had pushed the situation out of his mind, while he secured himself his own flat and a job.

But the guilt was catching up with him.

Hermione barely had a chance to shut the Burrow door behind her and drop her parcel on the floor, before an excited yell issued fomr the kitchen. A redhead came bounding out and she was enveloped very suddenly in a crushing hug.

"Charlie!" she gasped, as he released her with a grin. "What are you doing here?"

Charlie's grin faded somewhat. "Didn't you hear? Fleur went into labour four hours ago."

Hermione gasped and rushed to the kitchen, where Mr Weasley, Ron, Harry, Ginny and George were grouped around the table, all looking rather tense. The only absence was Percy.

Hermione drew up a chair beside Ginny. "Where are they?" she asked the room at large.

"St. Mungo's," George replied. "With mum... Bill's in a right state," he added with a reluctant grin. "I don't think I've seen him this freaked out since the wedding."

A chuckle swept the room and the atmosphere relaxed somewhat. Charlie produced several bottles of butterbeer and joined the table, handing them out.

Hermione looked around at the redheads awaiting the arrival of the newest member of their family with mixed emotions. George and Charlie appeared as calm as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Mr Weasley was silent and poker faced, sipping his butterbeer quietly. Ginny was leaning on Harry's shoulder and looking a little tense. Ron, to Hermione's slight amusement, was stark white and staring fixedly at his butterbeer bottle. He jumped slightly when Hermione leaned over and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, but gave her a grateful smile and raised his bottle to his lips.

Against all odds, Hermione and Ron had bounced back to their previous, close friendship almost immediately after their split – much to the Weasley's relief.

"Right," said Charlie brightly, in an attempt to lessen the nerves of some of the room's occupants. "How have you guys been? It feels like it's been years!"

Jumping on this chance at small talk, the room erupted into loud chatter. Ginny filled everyone in on her and Harry's plans for the wedding the following year, Harry smiling and nodded good-naturedly as his fiancé prattled on about flowers and music.

George and Ron eagerly updated the family on the latest WWW products, which included a nose-biting tea set, which George assured them all that his father had given them the idea nine years before during a morning cup of coffee with his children.

After Mr Weasley's brief account of his current status a work, the room turned to Hermione.

"So, how have you been Hermione?" Charlie enquired. "Busy as always, I take it, judging by the size of the parcel of books you just brought home!"

Hermione grinned ruefully. "Nothing exciting really, just a couple of conferences coming up. Oh... and I bumped into Malfoy again today."

This caught everybody's attention immediately. Ron's head whipped round and Ginny, George and Charlie stared at Hermione, eagerly waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, Ginny snapped, "Well?"

Hermione looked surprised at the sudden interest. "Well, I was just in the bookshop, picking up my order and he turned up."

"Was he buying something?" asked Mr Weasley interestedly.

Hermione nodded. "Yes... I'm not sure what it was, though."

"You've been spending time with him lately, haven't you, Hermione?"

For some inexplicable reason, Hermione felt her cheeks warm. "Some time," she replied evasively.

"You have?" George asked sharply. He turned to Harry. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

Before Harry could open his mouth, however, Hermione butted in. "Of course it's a good idea! There's nothing wrong with him."

George looked unconvinced and this time it was Ginny who spoke.

"George, there's nothing to be worried about. Malfoy's perfectly fine. He proposed a truce with both Harry and Hermione. After that, I highly doubt there is anything to be worried about. From what Hermione told me, his apology was completely genuine."

"I still want to talk to him myself," George growled. Ron wasn't looking too happy either. This was what made George and Ron such an excellent team in the shop. Although they weren't completely aware of it, they both had many common views.

"Anyway," said Hermione, in a falsely cheery voice, trying to steer clear of the tricky topic she had aroused. "Charlie, how's Jane?" she asked, referring to older Weasley's girlfriend of six months. A collective groan issued around the table as Charlie leapt into an account of their latest romantic getaway.

The minutes slipped by and Hermione found her thoughts drifting to that afternoon, sitting, laughing in the late sun with Draco. There was a reason she had defended Draco just now, only she could not quite put her finger on it.

She traced the patterns on the table idly as her thoughts drifted even deeper into that afternoon, until all she could see in her mind's eye was Draco's smiling face, and his true, happy laughter ringing in her ears...

"Hermione?"

"What?" she asked bewilderedly, looking up in shock. She saw grins being exchanged around the table.

"Nothing, just thought you needed a little wake up call," said Harry, patting her on the back.

Hermione opened her mouth, a sharp retort on her tongue, but was cut off by an insistent tapping on the kitchen window. They looked up to see a handsome tawny owl perched on the windowsill. Mr Weasley leapt to his feet and flung open the window. Ron blanched once again when he saw the St. Mungo's seal on the letter. Hermione bit her lip.

George, however, who was peering over his father's shoulder, grinned happily and turned back to the table.

"It's a girl!"

As cheers erupted and sighs of relief erupted around the room and Hermione leant over and gave Ron a reassuring one-armed hug, she couldn't help but wish there was someone else here to share in the happiness. Someone who could do with a whole lot of happiness in his life right now.

**A/N. So there it is. I know it's short, but the chapters will definitely get longer from here on out! I know there wasn't any Hermione/Draco interaction, but I just wanted to use this chapter to clarify his situation. More will be up soon! And it's going to get exciting! I'd love to know what you think so PLEASE review! Skye xx**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N. Yay! Thanks so much for all the lovely reviews, Nameless Secret Keeper, Taylor F, TheAngelOnYouRight, SerpentfOfDarkness, dutch potterfan, BlueBerrySourStraps, and the two guests! And all the follows and favs too! You guys are amazing! The next chapter is up! Here you go!**

Chapter 5

July faded almost imperceptibly into August and Hermione found herself, once again, swamped in work as convention season began. She found little time to spend with her friends and family, instead being forced to work long hours at the office, poring over stacks upon stacks of documents.

With little to time for herself, Hermione's visits to her favourite cafe becoming increasingly less, and she found herself missing the cups of coffee and few moments she spent with Draco. She was becoming cranky and guarded, and Ginny and Harry found themselves avoiding her. This did nothing to improve Hermione's mood however. All she wanted was to come home after a long day and spend a few hours with her best friends.

"You're working yourself too hard, Hermione," Ginny told her friend one evening at dinner. Hermione's face was pale and pinched and her eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. Despite her obvious stress, Hermione shook her head stubbornly.

"Nonsense," she insisted, almost knocking over her glass of water as she reached across the table for the gravy. "I'm doing what's expected of me. Nothing more, nothing less... oh Merlin," she groaned as the unmistakeable sound of a baby crying floated down the stairs.

Fleur and Bill had been staying at the Burrow since Victoire had been born, at Molly insistence – for Mrs Weasley as convinced that Fleur simply could not make it through the first month on her own. But Hermione, with her intense workload and constant stress, was beginning to take to it rather badly. The squalling yells of the little girl could be heard almost nonstop throughout the little time Hermione spent at home, and Hermione found her patience being worn very thin.

Ginny glanced meaningfully at Harry, at Hermione's outburst, which he chose to ignore. He knew Hermione well enough to let her be until the work and stress had worn off. Ginny, on the other hand, did not have the patience for Hermione's tension and certainly did not intend to put up with it for as long as it was going to last. She therefore decided to call upon the only person she could think of to try and take Hermione's mind off her work, if only for an afternoon.

~o0o~

It was Friday, and although she was permitted to leave the office at three o'clock, Hermione had no intention of departing the Ministry until she had done every ounce of work she possibly could. Her resolution, however, was tested and, in the end, broken as her head of Department, Jonathan Cattermole, entered her office.

He was, surprisingly, the brother of Reg Cattermole, whose identity Ron had stolen in order to enter the Ministry undetected all those years ago.

Hermione looked up, startled, as the tall man flung open her door. He was carrying a stack of papers and Hermione visibly paled as he placed them on her desk. As if sensing her horror, Jonathan swiftly retrieved them, saying, "Oh no, these aren't for you, don't worry."

Hermione sighed in relief. "Then why are you here?"

Her head of Department took a moment to examine her. Her pace was pale and pinched, there were dark circles beneath her eyes and she was visibly thinner than when he had last laid eyes on her. She looked, to be perfectly honest, thoroughly overworked. Jonathan felt a pang of guilt and he mentally backtracked.

"I just wanted to let you know that you have the weekend off," he informed her with a smile. "You're not to take any work home this weekend. You need to take a break."

To his shock, Hermione looked scandalised and shook her head vigorously – but she stopped quickly as her splitting headache did not allow for such energetic movement.

"No, no, Jonathan! I couldn't possibly," she insisted. "I've got three reports due on Wednesday which I have to complete this weekend because I have a meeting on Monday –"

"Hermione," he said firmly. "You've been overworking yourself, it's as plain as day. Just take this opportunity and get some rest in this weekend. I can extend your due date 'til Friday – then you'll have plenty of time –"

But Hermione put her well practiced foot down stubbornly. "No... thank you, Jonathan, but I simply can't accept this. It's my own fault I'm this behind. I'll be fine! Enjoy your weekend."

Sighing, her boss took this as his dismissal.

Hermione rubbed her temples and groaned. She had been stupid to turn down his generous offer, but she knew that if she did not complete her report this weekend, she would be under even more stress the following week. However, she decided to leave the office early and run by the Diagon Alley cafe before returning home to get back to work.

It took her only a short while to pack her bag with all the essentials needed for the weekend. Half an hour later she was heading down the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley, and sitting down at her favourite table by the window. She could barely summon the energy to greet Draco as he hurried over to her. He stopped short at the sight of her exhausted appearance.

A look of concern crossed Draco's face as he drew up a chair beside her, ignoring the disapproving looks he earned from his fellow waiters.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" he asked, frowning slightly. "You look terrible."

Hermione forced herself to sit a little straighter in her chair and attempted a smile, which more resembled a grimace.

"Of course I'm fine. What are you on about?" She instinctively brought a hand to her temple as her head gave a particularly nasty throb. This did not go unnoticed by Draco who, after six years at Hogwarts with her, recognised her symptoms as those of one overworked. He couldn't even count the number of times he had seen her in this exact state in the chilly hallways of Hogwarts.

"Hermione?" he asked cautiously, because she looked liable to faint at any given moment. "When was the last time you took a day off work?"

"What?" she asked, looking up at him bemusedly. "Why would I need to take a day off work?"

"Because you look about as bad as you did in third year, when you were taking all those extra classes."

"How do you even know about that?"

"I have eyes, Granger... and ears."

"I'm fine," she insisted, leaning her head on her hand to support it. "I see we're back to last names – I thought we'd come so far..."

This coaxed a smile from Draco, but did nothing to lessen his worry about the poor witch who was practically sleeping with her eyes open. "It's a term of endearment," he assured her.

"N – n – nonsense," said Hermione, stifling a huge yawn. "Since when?"

Draco chose not to answer that. "Right," he said, rising from his chair. "I'm going to go and get you something to drink."

Hermione stared up at him, baffled. "But I haven't ordered anything."

"I know your usual," he said, already heading for the kitchen, scribbling something on his notepad. Hermione made no attempt to stop him; indeed she didn't have the energy to, so she contented herself by gazing blankly out of the window, forcing herself to keep her eyes open.

It didn't take long for Draco to return to her table, baring a tray with a cappuccino and several chocolate biscuits adorning it. He placed the steaming cup in front of her with a flourish and, when she showed no signs of having seen him, shook her shoulder gently. She jumped wildly, her elbow just missing the coffee cup.

"What?"

Draco hid his grin. "You're coffee's here," he told her, gesturing to the cup. She relaxed.

"Thank you."

"No problem, it is my job after all, Granger. Look, my shift ends in ten minutes; I'll come and join you soon."

Hermione simply nodded and sipped her coffee, which had a strangely mint-like quality about it, but she paid it no heed. Little did she know but Draco had, in fact, added a few drops of Revitalizing Potion to the drink. It had an almost instantaneous effect on her, and Hermione felt her headache lesson somewhat, and the exhaustion ease from her limbs. She assumed that is was due to the caffeine and gave it no more thought.

Ten minutes later, Draco headed to her table, folding his apron and tucking it into his bag as he went. He stopped at her table and leaned on the back of the vacant chair opposite her, pleased to note that her eyes were considerably brighter and the colour had returned to her cheeks.

"And you finished?" he asked. She nodded. "Good, let's go for a walk."

She stared at him in horror. "A _walk_? Can't we just have a sit?"

But Hermione was not the only stubborn one. Draco shook his head. "No... it'll do you a world of good. Come on, let's go. Leave that bloody huge bag of yours here," he added hastily as she made to pick it up. "We'll pick it up later."

Good-naturedly furious that he could twist her arm so easily, when all she really felt like was going home and crawling into bed, Hermione cast him a scowl which Draco brushed off without comment, and followed him outside.

"I can't believe you're making me do this," she moaned as they strolled up the bustling street. But true to Draco's word, the walk was indeed doing Hermione a world of good. She felt more and more energized as the walk progressed and by the time that had reached the nearby park, her lethargy was all but forgotten. Draco hid a self-satisfied smirk at his ingenuity.

The park was, as usual, fairly busy. But by following the same route they had taken before, they were able to shake off most of the crowd to enjoy a peaceful stroll.

"Ginny's right," Hermione muttered as they walked along the edge of the woods. "I am working myself too hard."

Draco remained silent, decided it was better not to mention the run in he had had with Ginny earlier that week, where she had nagged him to do something to help her friend. Upon seeing Hermione himself, he did not blame the Weasley girl for wanting him to knock some sense into Hermione's bushy head. Not that it was all that busy anymore, he added in his mind, examining Hermione's tame curls. He had to admit that she certainly was a beautiful witch. How he had not noticed that before he did not know.

Blinded by hatred, he supposed, as a wave of guilt threatened to engulf him. As usual, Hermione found the exact right moment to distract him from his thoughts.

"So how have you been?" she asked, peering up at him as they walked.

Draco shrugged. "Not bad... not great either," he admitted, looking down at his hands. Hermione studied him quizzically. He didn't meet her gaze, opting instead to fix his eyes on the path in front of them. "It's been a bit of a transition, you know, since I left my parents. I'm only really getting used to it now. There's so much to rediscover and to repair... it tough."

Hermione nodded understandingly. "I know what you mean... well sort of,' she added hastily, and a smile quirked Draco's lips. "After the War I felt a little lost. Everything was over... and all that was left was to rebuild and repair our lives. It felt a little empty, you know, without all of the danger. Like it wasn't really possible... like we were all just being lulled into a false sense of security. It took time to adjust. Quite a long time... but here we are now!" she added brightly, a smile lighting up her tired face.

Draco nodded. "Yes... here we are. And who would've guessed I would be strolling along in compatible conversation with my former Mudblood nemesis." He stopped suddenly, horrified at the word that had just escaped his mouth. He had meant it as a joke... but no one had ever really gotten his dry humour. He screwed up his face, waiting for the blow.

It didn't come. Instead, to his utter disbelief, Hermione burst out laughing. He turned to her, astonishment etched in every line of his face. This only made her laugh louder.

After a few moments, Hermione managed to choke back her amusement enough to talk. "Oh, Draco you face!" she cried, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "You would have thought I was going to slap you!"

"Weren't you?" he asked timidly, still recovering from the shock of her laughter.

"Of course not!" Hermione exclaimed. "I knew you were joking... I've seen how much you've changed over these past few years. Honestly Draco, how could think I'd do that?"

Draco shrugged, an embarrassed grin now stretching the corners of his mouth. "Well, you did punch me in the face in third year," he pointed out. Hermione merely dug her elbow into his ribs with another laugh.

"And how many times did you call me a Mudblood in the six years of school we spent together?"

"Old habits die hard," said Draco said simply. "At least I wasn't being spiteful just now."

"Yeah, thank Merlin," sighed Hermione. "I would have been distraught... after all the work I've done on you –"

She was cut off as Draco grabbed waist and slung her over his shoulder, not breaking his stride once.

"What are you doing?" Hermione shrieked, trying, in vain, to wriggle from his grasp.

"Just deflating your head a little," said Draco. "I'm beginning to think I'm becoming a bad influence on you."

~o0o~

Ginny was surprised, but not unhappy, when Hermione returned home that evening perfectly cheerful. She grinned quietly to herself as she watched her friend humming as she surmounted the stairs to her room. So it had been a good idea to talk to Draco after all. Ginny had been reluctant at first, when Harry had suggested it, but she was now thankful that she had followed through with it.

That evening, dinner was a cheerful affair, what with Hermione much less pale and wan than she had been for the last few weeks.

"Have a good day, Hermione?" Ginny asked, hiding a grin behind her goblet of butterbeer.

Hermione, who was in the process of buttering her potatoes, nodded. "Not bad at all, actually," she said with a rare smile. "I caught up with Draco this afternoon, too."

Ginny gave Harry a meaningful smile and he planted a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"Thanks," he whispered. Ginny grinned.

The happy moment was shattered as a squalling cry echoed down the stairs. Fleur leapt to her feet and dashed away. Hermione, whose Revitalizing Potion was slowly wearing off, buried her face in her hands.

"Why doesn't someone just give her a bloody Cheering Charm?" she growled, reaching for the flagon of butterbeer. When no one replied, Hermione looked up irritably, to find everyone staring at her.

"What?" she asked, a small frown creasing her forehead.

"You know, Hermione," said Bill slowly, a grin spreading across his face. "That really is an extraordinary idea."

"Always the tone of surprise," said Hermione gruffly. But she was unable to hold back a smile as Bill leapt to his feet and hurried off in pursuit of Fleur.

**A/N. And there it is! I have to say I really, really enjoyed writing this chapter! I did it all in one sitting! Please let me know what you think! Review, review, review! Xx Skye**


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